Page 79 of Little Last Words

She pressed her hands together and smiled. “Wonderful. I’ve been meaning to ask when we can get started on the wedding plans. I have so many ideas.”

Whoa, Mom.

Slow down.

“We haven’t picked a date yet,” I said.

“What’s the holdup? You already live together. May as well seal the deal. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“We’ve decided to take things slow. There’s no rush.”

The disappointed look on her face was palpable.

“Giovanni came to see your stepfather before he whisked you away, you know,” she said.

I didn’t know.

“What did he want to speak to Harvey about?” I asked.

“You, of course. He told him about his plan to propose, and he asked for his blessing.”

I was impressed but not surprised. Harvey had been just as much of a father to me as my real father was when he was alive, something Giovanni knew and respected. I’m sure it meant a lot to Harvey to be considered in such a way.

“Giovanni asked your brothers for their blessings too,” my mother said.

“Ahh, I understand now why it was important to Giovanni to have Nathan here for my birthday.”

I also understood why Nathan had questioned me about him as we drove to lunch on my birthday.

I was starting to wonder when the conversation would wind its way back to my investigation and the information she was keeping, when she said, “Word on the street is that Penelope Barlow was seen canoodling at a diner with a man the week before she died.”

Word on the street?

It took everything in me not to burst out laughing.

I pictured my mother in some back alley, late at night, in a baseball hat and glasses, shaking down a helpless senior citizen for information about Penelope’s murder.

“Where did you get your information?” I asked.

“My friend Carol from Pilates class heard it from her friend Vincene, who heard it from her friend Sandra, who overheard two ladies talking about it in the bakery this morning. I thought you’d want to know.”

Oh, boy.

Where to begin …

“Which diner?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I’ll try to find out.”

“Any idea what the guy looked like?”

“I don’t know. I’ll try to find out.”

“What kind of canoodling?”

She smiled at me.

“You don’t know,” I said. “You’ll try to find out.”